


A Game at Night

by MissMartine



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 18:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15443091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMartine/pseuds/MissMartine
Summary: Scully has anxiety in the night. Mulder has a creative antidote. This bedtime story is a soothing blend of humor, comfort, sexiness and love.





	A Game at Night

She hadn’t been sleeping well. Waking in the night with a jolt that sent her tipping straight into anxiety; about what, she wasn’t even certain, and being unable to fall back asleep for hours. Her mind shifting haphazardly, one train of thought to the next, she would drift, from one topic to another and from her left to her right side, until she either forgot to be anxious anymore, or the early sun crawling through the curtains gave her something else on which to focus.

This was one of those nights.

She’d fallen asleep in his arms, content and hopeful that she would not wake until it was fully morning, and her body was finally rested. No such luck. In the few moments it took her to go from restless whimpering to the creep of adrenaline that brought her to alertness, Mulder was already waking too, slipping his arm around her waist from behind, nuzzling her neck. He was so good that way. Never complaining about being woken in the night, seeming to see it as his duty, now that they had expanded their partnership, to protect her in any situation where she might require it of him. It was the one thing that kept her from having anxiety about her own anxiety. Mulder never seemed to mind.

“Mmmm,” he murmured now, his wordless way of acknowledging that he knew she was distressed, and that he was there to calm her if she wanted. She pressed her back against his chest and waited, hoping still that her nervous system would take these cues to relax again, to resume its resting status and not demand that she fight her endless circling thoughts, or flee her bed in search of distraction. She wanted nothing but to feel that it was safe to sleep.

“Scully, let’s play a game.” Mulder’s voice was quiet and scratchy, and Scully felt the sliver of guilt that she could never quite excise at his generosity with her. She supposed it was left over from her life in the church, and from the lingering feeling that she would always be the one having to look after Mulder, saving him from something or other. It was hard to be the one who needed looking after.

“Right now, Mulder? It’s the middle of the night.” Scully kept her voice at a whisper so as not to wake him any further. If he fell back asleep right away, at least one of them would be rested in the morning.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling her more snugly to him, “right now. I have a good game.” So much for letting him sleep. Scully sighed and gave in.

“Ok. What game?”

“I’ll show you.” Mulder brushed her shirt up her waist, placing his fingers on her bare hip. It still made her breathless to feel his touch like this. She sucked her bottom lip against her teeth and knew that Mulder knew how he affected her. She waited.

“I’m going to draw a shape on your skin,” he explained, “and you have to guess what it is.” His fingers were warm and firm. The jump of her pulse now felt less agitated and more aroused. With one finger he began tracing a shape on her hip, a curving line that led upward, around, and then down to meet itself in a point back at the bottom. With the addition of two tiny, angled dashes inside the hollow shape, Scully could tell exactly what Mulder was drawing. A smile quirked upon her face.

“Mulder, I love you,” she whispered, turning her face to catch a glimpse of his. His eyes were crinkled in a smile of his own. “It’s an alien, obviously,” she informed him. 

“Got it in one, Scully,” He sounded inordinately pleased. “And this is why I love you.” She gave his hand a squeeze and reached behind her to find his stomach.

“My turn now.” She started carefully, outlining little circles with her finger and connecting them with short lines between each. When she had about 7 circles in a layered mass, she stopped. “Well?”

“Hmmm…” Next to her hand, he retraced some of the circles. “Is it... popcorn?”

“No, Mulder.” Out of habit Scully rolled her eyes.

“Then it must be… a molecular structure.” Mulder was triumphant.

“Ok, which molecular structure is it?” 

“Scully! I have no way of knowing that, you’re the scientist here. Besides, I knew it wasn’t popcorn, I was just teasing you.”

“Fine, Mulder.” Scully pushed his hand aside. “But only because I didn’t pick a specific structure. And if you guessed wrong on purpose, then I get another turn.”

“No fair, Scully.” Mulder grabbed the waistband of her pajama pants and pulled it farther down her hip, leaving her skin exposed and goosebumping in anticipation. “I need a bigger canvas,” he explained, but the gruffness of his tone gave him away. Scully thrilled. This time his finger outlined something more complex, lines twisting into and through each other, linked with smaller lines until…

“DNA,” Scully practically snapped out, “it’s DNA.” 

“Scully,” he murmured against her ear, “you’re too good.” The tone of his voice once again flirted with double entendre, and she felt herself responding warmly. But she couldn’t let him win her over so easily - she had another drawing in mind already and held him firmly off until she could begin. Two parallel lines, a scalloped circle atop them, filled in with more tiny circles until Mulder gave a knowing chuckle and grasped her fingers in his. She waited.

“It’s a tree,” he whispered, “an apple tree.” He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed them, then did something that was less kissing and more suggestive than anything he’d tried so far. Her hip, still adorned with invisible lines, twinged. 

“Mulder,” she half moaned, “no, you’re - you’re wrong.” Mulder stopped short and lifted his tongue away from her hand.

“What do you mean, Scully? It’s not an apple tree??” Now he sounded almost panicked. Scully had to laugh.

“It’s an orange tree,” she whispered back. Mulder groaned his disappointment.

“Does that mean I lose another turn?” His whisper, and the sudden worry that she’d pushed him too far in his own game, flipped the switch in her and she felt herself tilt back towards her earlier mood. She still wasn’t used to letting the little things go; what if he was really upset with her?

“No - no, Mulder, it’s ok, you can take your turn, go ahead.” Her breath caught in her throat. _Please, please let him take his turn, please let everything be alright._ She knew her intense reaction didn’t make sense, but she also knew she couldn’t stop it. She’d have to wait and see what happened.

“I have a really good one,” Mulder spoke quietly, and she shivered. His fingers settled back onto her hip, soft and soothing and deliberate. Slowly he drew the lines, a full, curving shape on one side, mirrored on the other. A shape that symbolized everything between them.

“A heart,” Scully said simply. She felt relief flood back into her and she could breathe again. Chemical imbalance was its own cruel game, but sometimes she could win against it. With someone on her side.

“A heart,” Mulder repeated, keeping his fingers there, now kissing her face, kissing her lips, moving over her until she lay supine beneath him. Her muscles loosened and she was ready to let him take over, to let his actions set her free.

There was another spiritual practice she had kept from her church upbringing, and it was thankfulness. Right now, she thanked God for the blessing that was Mulder, his boundless energy, creativity and love. She herself knew many ways to combat the enemy of anxiety, but sometimes even the rigors of science and practical thinking couldn’t seem to defeat it. Sometimes it needed a mysterious phenomenon, a creature with special abilities. Something unexpected, like Mulder making up a game for her in the night. And in this - Scully wanted to believe.


End file.
